askthewillow,asktheblossomingelder!atallevents,hebadefarewelltonurembergandjourneyedonwards.heneverspokeofjoannatoanyone;hissorrowwashiddeninhisheart.theoldchildishstoryofthetwocakeshadadeepmeaningforhim.heunderstoodnowwhythegingerbreadmanhadabitteralmondinhisleftside;hiswasthefeelingofbitterness,andjoanna,somildandfriendly,wasrepresentedbythehoneycakemaiden.ashethoughtuponallthis,thestrapofhisknapsackpressedacrosshischestsothathecouldhardlybreathe;heloosenedit,butgainednorelief.hesawbuthalftheworldaroundhim;theotherhalfhecarriedwithhiminhisinwardthoughts;andthisistheconditioninwhichheleftnuremberg.nottillhecaughtsightoftheloftymountainsdidtheworldappearmorefreetohim;histhoughtswereattractedtoouterobjects,andtearscameintohiseyes.thealpsappearedtohimlikethewingsofearthfoldedtogether;unfolded,theywoulddisplaythevariegatedpicturesofdarkwoods,foamingwaters,spreadingclouds,andmassesofsnow."atthelastday,"thoughthe,"theearthwillunfolditsgreatwings,andsoarupwardstotheskies,theretoburstlikeasoap-bubbleintheradiantglanceofthedeity.oh,"sighedhe,"thatthelastdaywerecome!"

silentlyhewanderedonthroughthecountryofthealps,whichseemedtohimlikeafruitgarden,coveredwithsoftturf.fromthewoodenbalconiesofthehousestheyounglacemakersnoddedashepassed.thesummitsofthemountainsglowedintheredeveningsunset,andthegreenlakesbeneaththedarktreesreflectedtheglow.thenhethoughtoftheseacoastbythebaykjoge,withalonginginhisheartthatwas,however,withoutpain.there,wheretherhinerollsonwardlikeagreatbillow,anddissolvesitselfintosnowflakes,whereglisteningcloudsareeverchangingasifherewastheplaceoftheircreation,whiletherainbowfluttersaboutthemlikeamany-coloredribbon,theredidknudthinkofthewater-millatkjoge,withitsrushing,foamingwaters.gladlywouldhehaveremainedinthequietrhenishtown,butthereweretoomanyeldersandwillow-trees.

sohetravelledonwards,overagrand,loftychainofmountains,overrugged,-rockyprecipices,andalongroadsthathungonthemountain'ssidelikeaswallow'snest.thewatersfoamedinthedepthsbelowhim.thecloudslaybeneathhim.hewanderedon,treadinguponalpineroses,thistles,andsnow,withthesummersunshininguponhim,tillatlengthhebidfarewelltothelandsofthenorth.thenhepassedonundertheshadeofbloomingchestnut-trees,throughvineyards,andfieldsofindiancorn,tillconsciousthatthemountainswereasawallbetweenhimandhisearlyrecollections;andhewishedittobeso.

beforehimlayalargeandsplendidcity,calledmilan,andherehefoundagermanmasterwhoengagedhimasaworkman.themasterandhiswife,inwhoseworkshophewasemployed,wereanold,piouscouple;andthetwooldpeoplebecamequitefondofthequietjourneyman,whospokebutlittle,butworkedmore,andledapious,christianlife;andeventohimselfitseemedasifgodhadremovedtheheavyburdenfromhisheart.hisgreatestpleasurewastoclimb,nowandthen,totheroofofthenoblechurch,whichwasbuiltofwhitemarble.thepointedtowers,thedecoratedandopencloisters,thestatelycolumns,thewhitestatueswhichsmileduponhimfromeverycornerandporchandarch,-all,eventhechurchitself,seemedtohimtohavebeenformedfromthesnowofhisnativebovehimwasthebluesky;belowhim,thecityandthewide-spreadingplainsoflombardy;andtowardsthenorth,theloftymountains,coveredwithperpetualsnow.andthenhethoughtofthechurchofkjoge,withitsred,ivy-cladwalls,buthehadnolongingtogothere;here,beyondthemountains,hewoulddieandbeburied.

threeyearshadpassedawaysincehelefthishome;oneyearofthattimehehaddweltatmilan.

onedayhismastertookhimintothetown;nottothecircusinwhichridersperformed,buttotheopera,alargebuilding,itselfasightwellworthseeing.theseventiersofboxes,whichreachedfromthegroundtoadizzyheight,neartheceiling,werehungwithrich,silkencurtains;andinthemwereseatedelegantly-dressedladies,withbouquetsofflowersintheirhands.thegentlemenwerealsoinfulldress,andmanyofthemworedecorationsofgoldandsilver.theplacewassobrilliantlylightedthatitseemedlikesunshine,andgloriousmusicrolledthroughthebuilding.everythinglookedmorebeautifulthaninthetheatreatcopenhagen,butthenjoannahadbeenthere,and-coulditbe?